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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28574718">Hiding Away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyeverafter72/pseuds/happyeverafter72'>happyeverafter72</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:40:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28574718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyeverafter72/pseuds/happyeverafter72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When life in London is getting them down, Holmes and Watson head to their cottage in Sussex for some romance.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the end of January, Holmes and I were thoroughly fed up. The weather had been foul, with constant fog and driving drizzle. Holmes had had to deal with a string of unsatisfactory cases, while I had been seeing endless streams of paranoid patients, worried that the cold was making them ill. </p><p>“We could always get away for a while,” I said one day at breakfast. </p><p>“What had you in mind?” he asked. </p><p>Our eyes met across the table and it was clear we were both thinking the same thing. Some time in our hideaway in Sussex would be perfect. </p><p>He reached for my hand and caressed the back with his thumb. “I could go down and prepare the place while you finish seeing your patients,” he said softly, a hint of promise glinting in his eyes. </p><p>“I shan’t be able to get away until tomorrow,” I said regretfully. </p><p>“Then I shall be able to warm the cottage for you,” he replied. “A few hours’ extra wait will be worth it.” </p><p>After breakfast, he set off for the train and I for my practice. Luckily, my colleague was happy to cover all our patients for however long I needed, starting from the following afternoon. The hours until I was able to follow my darling dragged by. When the time came, I left for the train with a spring in my step. </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ </p><p>Having caught a train shortly after luncheon, I arrived at the station in Sussex in the middle of the afternoon. I hired a cart to take me to the cottage, which was situated about a mile outside of a very pretty little village. Holmes had clearly been watching for my arrival because he appeared at the door when the cart drew up. I was thrilled to see him. He was dressed more casually than was his habit in London, having forgone a waistcoat and jacket and instead wearing a jumper. Once we were inside and had closed the door behind us, he kissed me. It was sweet, but full of promise, his hand skimming over my waist and down to caress my arse. </p><p>“Hello, my darling,” he murmured when he pulled away. </p><p>I chuckled, looping my arms around his neck. “Hello, my love,” I replied. “I missed you.” I kissed him again, softly. </p><p>“And I you,” he said. I could see desire glittering his eyes, but also that he was trying to keep it in check for the moment. “I expect you would like some tea after your journey.” </p><p>I affirmed that I would, then went upstairs to deposit my bags. Holmes had prepared the cottage well, making it wonderfully warm. </p><p>By the time I got back downstairs, he had made the tea and cut me a slice of cake. He had removed his jumper and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. I couldn’t help focussing on the delicate skin of his wrists, thinking about how he gasped when I trailed kisses along his forearms, nipping where I knew he was sensitive. </p><p>We drank our tea, the glances between us becoming ever more heated despite the mundaneness of our conversation. We knew what we wanted, but half the thrill was in prolonging the anticipation. </p><p>When we had finished our tea, he took the dishes back to the kitchen. He came into the sitting room with the buttons of his collar undone, knowing what the sight would do to me. I pulled him into my arms and kissed him passionately. He parted his lips for me and our tongues caressed, our hands roaming, already fumbling with buttons. I got some more of the top buttons of his shirt undone and trailed kisses down his neck, making him sigh. Encouraged, I nipped slightly at his skin, eliciting a soft moan. We undressed each other with relish, kissing and caressing all the skin we could reach, then finally pressing our bodies together. He moved me back towards my armchair, then pulled away slightly. </p><p>“Sit,” he murmured, and I obeyed. </p><p>He knelt before me, then leaned forward to nuzzle my stomach. He kissed, licked and caressed adoringly, making me sigh as he slowly moved lower. He trailed hot kisses over my bollocks, then took my cock into his mouth. I moaned wantonly as he sucked me, his lips providing the prefect pressure while his tongue teased me. When I was getting close to the edge, he pulled off. I groaned at the loss and he chuckled. </p><p>“Patience, love,” he said, getting up to retrieve a tin of vaseline from the bureau in the corner. </p><p>Coming back to me, he straddled my lap, his knees on either side of my hips. Smiling at me teasingly, he opened the tin and scooped out some of the contents. He slathered the vaseline over my aching cock, making me moan again. I wanted to kiss him but didn’t want to distract him from his ministrations. I settled for running my hands over his chest, teasing his nipples with my thumbs. </p><p>When he had finished preparing my shaft, he lifted up and lowered himself onto my cock. He went slowly, to maximise our pleasure and prevent injury to himself. We both moaned at the feeling and I tugged his head down to plunder his mouth again. When he was fully seated upon me, he paused to let us both adjust. </p><p>I always love filling him, the feeling of his tight, hot arse around my cock sending jolts of pleasure along my spine. I realised that he must have prepared himself while waiting for me to arrive. I imagined him thinking of me while opening himself up with his perfect fingers. Letting out another moan, I closed my eyes in bliss. </p><p>“You feel so good, darling,” I breathed. </p><p>He began to move on top of me, slowly at first. The drag of my member inside him felt incredible, wave after wave of pleasure surging through me. He leaned forward so that his cock was pressed between us and each movement frigged him. I lowered my mouth to his neck, nipping, licking and sucking so that I would leave a mark. </p><p>“Oh John,” he moaned, increasing his pace as our excitement built. </p><p>Feeling my release approaching, I pulled back so that I could watch his face. His head was thrown back. his eyes closed, and the most blissful expression was on his beloved features. </p><p>“Sherlock,” I moaned. “More … more.” </p><p>He moved faster still and I met him with thrusts of my hips. His pace became erratic and he spent between us, his arse clenching around me. I climaxed too, and both of us were gasping, clinging to each other as we worked through our aftershocks. </p><p>Once we had recovered our breaths a little, he pulled himself off of me, then settled back down on my lap. We held each other, nuzzling soft kisses to jaws and necks and lips. </p><p>“My darling,” I murmured. </p><p>“Mon cœur,” he whispered back. </p><p>After a while, the need to clean asserted itself to me. I pulled back slightly. “Shall we have a bath?” I suggested. </p><p>He grinned. “That would be perfect.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The hot water of the bath, when I sank into it, was glorious. Holmes slipped into the tub behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and gently caressing my stomach. I relaxed back against him with a contented sigh.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Your shoulder has been paining you for several days,” he observed. “Would you like me to massage it for you?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be lovely, darling,” I replied.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He removed his arms from around me and brought his hands to my wounded shoulder. His lithe fingers pressed against the twisted, puckered flesh, easing out the knots and tension in the muscle beneath.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful,” I breathed, turning my head to kiss his cheek.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He turned his head too and captured my lips in a gentle kiss. He smiled softly when he pulled away.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, John,” he murmured.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Sherlock,” I murmured back.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Inexplicably, my mind strayed to the jumper he had been wearing when I arrived. It had been simultaneously too short in the arms and too baggy for him. I had been sure I recognised it and now I realised why.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it one of my jumpers you were wearing earlier?” I asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled slightly. “It smells of you,” he answered simply.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>My heart melted at his words. He really </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> missed me.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Seemingly finished with his massage, he lowered his hands back to my waist and kissed my shoulder softly. His lips moved slowly along the ridge of my scar, making me sigh. I could feel him smiling. I caressed his arms about my waist, my touch light.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like me to wash you, John?” he asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I shivered a little. The gesture was highly intimate and showed the depth of care he had for me.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, my love,” I responded.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He took his time, lathering the soap and carefully working the suds into my back and chest. He then applied gentle pressure to my shoulders, guiding me down into the water. While I was down there, he washed my hair. The feeling of his fingertips on my scalp was wonderful, as was the water when he scooped it over my head.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When I had sat back up, we reconfigured ourselves so that I could wash him with equal care. He giggled when I ran my hands over his ribs and sighed when I paid particular attention to the insides of his wrists. When I was done, I guided him back to lean against me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed gentle kisses to his shoulders and neck, content to cuddle him for a while.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“John,” he sighed, his hands joining mine on his stomach and our fingers intertwining.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The peaceful moment was interrupted by a loud rumble from my stomach. Holmes giggled while I blushed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you hungry, my darling?” he asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m rather afraid that I am, dearest,” I replied, catching his amusement.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we must feed you,” he said.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>We got out of the bath and towelled each other off gently. Once dressed in nightshirts and dressing gowns, we went downstairs for supper.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Holmes insisted on waiting on me, saying that for once he wanted to take care of me. He brought in some cold meat pie while I poured us both </span>
  <span>wine</span>
  <span>. We were quiet for a few moments as we began to eat.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You have used your time alone here well,” I remarked. “I note there are several new books on apiculture on the shelves.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>HIs eyes twinkled with mischief when he replied, “Well, I must have something to do apart from you while we’re here.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I felt my cheeks warm at the suggestion. His foot touched my leg under the </span>
  <span>table,</span>
  <span> and he smiled teasingly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I do so enjoy making you blush, my love,” he murmured.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>We made cheerful conversation through the rest of the meal, then repaired to the settee. We cuddled up together, each with a book, and spent some time in companionable silence.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>My eyelids were beginning to droop when, with a big yawn, I said, “I think I’m about ready for bed.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He agreed and we made our way back upstairs. After brushing our teeth and getting prepared, we clambered into bed. I wrapped my arms around my darling and he snuggled up to me, his hands coming to rest on my waist. I brushed a kiss to his temple as he settled.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, dearest,” I murmured.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night,” he replied.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was not long before we were both sound asleep.</span>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When I woke next morning, Holmes was still asleep. I watched his face, so peaceful in sleep, with none of that habitual hardness the rest of the world sees. I gently caressed his cheek and he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. </p><p>“Good morning, my love,” he murmured sleepily. </p><p>“Good morning,” I replied. </p><p>I inclined my head to capture his lips and we kissed softly. As we warmed each other up, our hands began to roam. He gasped then giggled when I squeezed his arse, and I took the opportunity to trail kisses down his throat. </p><p>“Get rid of this,” I murmured, bunching his nightshirt in my hand. </p><p>He sat up and wriggled out of the garment, then lay down again. Continuing, I kissed down his body, pausing to lick and suck at each of his sensitive nipples. His cock had perked up and he had begun to moan softly, but I was not done with teasing him. I kissed slowly, nipping occasionally to make him gasp. He is so sensitive, and I love to give him pleasure. </p><p>“Let me hear you, darling,” I murmured against his skin. “God, you’re gorgeous.” </p><p>I moved lower, kissing his inner thighs before taking his cock in my mouth. I put one hand on his hip to keep him from thrusting and with the other I caressed his bollocks while I sucked him. The noises he made were obscene, wanton, utterly delicious. Beads of pre-come slid down his cock and I lapped them up, savouring the taste of him. </p><p>“John,” he whined. “I’m … I’m going to …" </p><p>He spent down my throat and I swallowed every drop, working him fully before moving back up to lie beside him. My own cock was at full stand from pleasuring him, and I rubbed it against his thigh as he pulled me in to kiss him. </p><p>“Let me,” he said softly, reaching for me. </p><p>I was so aroused from his pleasure that I climaxed with only a few strokes of his hand. We gathered each other close and lay panting, happy and sated. Idly stroking his back, I let my mind drift to what we might do with the rest of the day. I might indulge in a little sketching, perhaps going out for a walk with my beloved. </p><p>He kissed my cheek. “What are you thinking about, dearest?” he asked. </p><p>“You,” I answered, inclining my head to kiss his lips. “And what we might do today.” </p><p>He tightened his arms around me. “Well, I don’t intend on moving from here for some time,” he said with a warm smile. </p><p>“Is that so?” I murmured, drawing him in for another kiss. </p><p>The only sounds to come from our room for quite some while were murmurs of affection between soft giggles and sighs. </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ </p><p>We walked into the village later in the morning. I wanted to purchase some better supplied than Holmes had thought of on his own. We were able to walk arm-in-arm with arousing suspicion and it was comforting to keep his warmth so close. </p><p>On the way back, once we were a sufficient distance from the village, he released my arm and took me by the hand instead. He wiggled his fingers between mine, curling them up to tickle my palm. It is strange how something as simple and innocent as holding hands can feel so intimate, but it always has to me with him. </p><p>After lunch, we settled down in the sitting room. He had started reading one of his new books, engrossed in learning the ways of bees. Occasionally he would mutter to himself or hold the book up with a cry of “Look at this, my dear.” </p><p>I read for a while too, enjoying one of my yellow-backed novels. Then I decided to do some sketching. I began by making studies of things I could see through the window, but my eye was continually drawn to Holmes. As I had done so many times before, I drew his hands several times over: clasping his book, one resting on the arm of the chair, then resting on his thigh, his fingers rucking up the fabric of his trousers. He crossed his legs in the chair, and I sketched him carefully poring over the book in his lap. So absorbed was I that I didn’t notice that he had moved until he commented on my work. </p><p>“I did not realise you were so interested in my hands, John,” he said, leaning over me slightly and resting a hand on my shoulder. </p><p>I shut my sketchbook, then took his hand and brought it to my lips to kiss the palm. “Did you not?” I murmured. </p><p>I led him round to sit on my lap. Holding his hand gently, I kissed his palm again, then the tip of each finger. Feeling bolder, I took the end of his index finger into my mouth, sucking on it lightly and caressing the soft pad with my tongue. He sighed with pleasure, his eyes closing. </p><p>Releasing his finger, I moved a hand to the back of his neck and pulled him in to kiss his lips. He parted them for me, and we kissed slowly, my hand tangling in his hair and his gripping the front of my shirt. When we had to break for air, he tucked his head in against my neck. We stayed like that for a while, holding each other. I love the scent of him, so I lingered with my lips brushing the point just below his ear where I could smell the skin of his neck. </p><p>“John?” he murmured. </p><p>“Yes, my love?” </p><p>“Should like to have some supper, then I should like to take you to bed.” </p><p>I chuckled. “I should like that very much too.” </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ </p><p>After supper, we cuddled on the settee for a while before going up to our bedroom. As we ascended the stair, I could feel Holmes shiver with anticipation. </p><p>Once we were in the bedroom, he pulled me to him and kissed me hard, taking my breath away. I responded eagerly, and we were both flushed and panting when we pulled away. </p><p>“I want to repay you for the exquisite pleasure you gave me this morning,” he murmured, his hands skimming down my body, one to palm my growing erection and the other to caress my arse. “Shall I tell you what I’m going to do?” </p><p>God, I love it when he teases me. “Please,” I whispered. </p><p>“First, I’m going to use my fingers which you so love to open you,” he said, nuzzling slightly at my jaw. “Then I’m going to take you slowly, until you whimper for me. And then,” he whispered, kissing the shell of my ear,” I’m going to pound you into the mattress.” </p><p>I moaned, my cock jumping at his words. “Sherlock, please.” </p><p>We kissed again, undressing each other eagerly. It was thrilling that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him, even after all our time together. </p><p>“Lie down on your front,” he instructed me. </p><p>I did so and watched him as he went to the bedside table to take out the vaseline, giving me a good view of his perfect arse. </p><p>Kneeling beside me on the bed, he scooped out some of the vaseline with his fingers. “Are you ready, my love?” he asked. </p><p>I nodded. He parted my buttocks and anointed my entrance, inserting a single finger. I moaned, loving the feeling of his long digit teasing me. He stroked me lovingly, leaning forward to kiss constellations between my shoulder blades and onto my neck. </p><p>“You’re beautiful, John,” he murmured. “I love you so much.” </p><p>Before I could reply, he quickened the pace of his strokes, making me moan again. He added a second finger deftly, scissoring them within me to open me up further. I knew he was being careful not to touch my prostate, not wanting to bring me to crisis too soon. I pushed back slightly against his fingers, craving the additional stimulation. </p><p>He chuckled. “You’re so eager, my darling.” </p><p>He gave me what I wanted, pushing in further to touch my prostate with his beautiful fingertips. </p><p>“So good, Sherlock,” I breathed. </p><p>He moaned low in his throat and my cock twitched thinking about how I affected him. He withdrew his fingers from me and guided me to brace myself against the headboard. He trailed long kisses down my spine and over my buttocks. Then he slicked himself and began to push into me. As he had promised, he went slowly, and the feeling was heavenly as he stretched me further. When he was sheathed in me fully, he paused to allow me to adjust, leaning forward to kiss me softly. Then he began to move again, slow and gentle. I let out a luxuriant moan, the drag of his member within me sending wave after wave of pleasure rippling up my spine. I could feel him holding himself back, wanting to maximise my pleasure. My heart swelled with love for him. </p><p>“Sherlock … please,” I whimpered, wanting him to bring us both to bliss. </p><p>With a moan, he began to move faster. I gasped as he hit my sweet spot, bucking back against him. He took the hint, moving faster still, his hips slapping against my arse. I would be sore the next day, but I didn’t care. The sensations he was creating in me were incredible. </p><p>“John,” he moaned, his pace growing erratic. </p><p>He spilled into me with a gasp, still thrusting as he worked through his aftershocks. Reluctantly, he pulled out and slumped onto the bed, then gathered me to him. My cock was aching for him, pre-come leaking from the tip. </p><p>“What would you like, my love?” he asked, smiling teasingly. </p><p>“Your hand, Sherlock,” I gasped. “Your lovely hands.” </p><p>One hand gripped my shaft, the other fondled my bollocks. He worked me at a fast pace, knowing just what I needed. I could feel my release approaching, then warmth flooded through me as I climaxed over his hand and stomach. </p><p>He held me close afterwards, one hand stroking my back, the other carding through my damp hair. He pressed soft kisses to my temple while I nuzzled and kissed his neck. </p><p>“We should clean, darling,” he murmured after a while. </p><p>Reluctant as I was to move, I knew he was right. We went along to the bathroom and cleaned each other gently. </p><p>Back in bed afterwards, we held each other tenderly, sharing soft kisses. Pulling away from my mouth, he pressed a gentle kiss to the centre of my chest, then nestled his head on my shoulder. </p><p>“John,” he said quietly, almost hesitantly, “would you like to draw me?” </p><p>“What do you mean?” I asked. “I draw you all the time.” </p><p>“I mean,” he said, blushing prettily, “I could pose for you. If you like.” </p><p>“I chuckled fondly, stroking his arm. “That would be lovely, dearest.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's some beautiful art of the drawing scene by fufuwatan at this link: https://oraora-hime.tumblr.com/post/640121720319115264/so-the-other-day-jeremys-come-to-bed-eyes<br/>Thank you so, so much for doing this for me!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>We slept late the following morning. Golden light was spilling through the curtains when Holmes gently kissed me awake. We lay there together still longer, talking idly about various things. Eventually, we made our way downstairs for breakfast. We went for a walk after we had finished. Because we were so out of the way, we held hands as we walked, the warm pressure of our joined hands offering great comfort. Holmes traced patterns on the back of my hand with his thumb, his elegant fingers stroking mine. His eyes and smile sparkled under the bright sunshine. He was beautiful, breath-taking.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After lunch, we set up so that I could draw him. I built up the fire while he went to prepare himself, wanting the room to be a comfortable temperature for him. I then arranged some cushions on the settee so that he could lounge and be propped up. I had just finished doing this when he reappeared, wrapped in his dressing gown.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready,” he said, looking uncharacteristically shy.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I smiled warmly. “Everything is ready for you,” I said. “You can prop yourself up on the cushions and you should be comfortable.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Slightly awkwardly, he shucked his dressing gown and lay down on the settee. As I had planned, his back was supported by the cushions. He bent the leg that was closest to me, his foot flat on the seat. One arm lay along the back of the settee, the other on his leg.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this suitable?” he asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” I replied. “Are you comfortable, my dear?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite comfortable, thank you,” he said. “Although it is strange. I have been bare before you many times, yet I feel shy.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I smiled. “That’s perfectly natural. You haven’t ever posed for someone before. You will do just fine.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he murmured. “That helps.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Just try to relax, my sweetheart,” I said. “Hold yourself naturally.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I began to sketch lightly, building the preliminary forms. I could see that he was trying to relax. When I raised my eyes to him, he giggled.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t giggle please, darling,” I said with a slight laugh. “It’s very distracting.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He composed himself, merriment still dancing in his eyes. I drew carefully, wanting to capture him accurately. I traced out the long, elegant lines of his limbs, the smooth curve of his neck, and the slight softness of his stomach. I mapped his freckles and scars, the patterns beautifully familiar. He sat patiently, his eyes on me the whole time. Anyone else might have been intimidated by his gaze, but I could feel his admiration. I raised my head to look at him when I had finished.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you finished, John?” he asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it’s done,” I replied.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled coyly. “Then come here, my darling,” he murmured. “I need to be kissed.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing slightly, I went to him. Gathering him into my arms, I kissed him deeply. He hummed approvingly and parted his lips for me, allowing our tongues to caress. His hands tangled in my hair as I eased him back against the cushions.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“John,” he sighed, pulling back slightly. “You’re wearing far too many clothes.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed, burying my face in his neck and tickling him with my moustache. He started to giggle, his arms moving down to embrace me. Between giggles and kisses, we removed my clothes. I lay partially on top of him and we kissed joyfully. He wriggled slightly beneath me to better accommodate my weight and slid a hand down my back to rest on my arse. I tickled his ribs to make him giggle again.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling back, I gazed down at him. He was stunning lying beneath me, his eyes full of joy and tenderness. He smiled softly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you like, my darling?” I asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Make love to me, John,” he murmured.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted me to love him slowly and tenderly. Our lust had burned out to give way to our gentle, underlying passion for each other.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s the </span>
  <span>vaseline</span>
  <span>?” I asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned. “In the pocket of my dressing gown.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed. Of course, my wicked darling had been prepared for this. I got up and retrieved the tin from his pocket, also finding a towel which I put within easy reach. He had spread his legs for me, and I settled back between his thighs. I took a scoop of the </span>
  <span>vaseline</span>
  <span> and anointed his entrance, inserting a finger to incite his appetite. He was relaxed and pliant, welcoming my touch, little sighing murmurs of pleasure escaping him. Knowing what he likes, I alternately thrust with my finger and stroked him slowly. His breathing was becoming ragged when I added a second finger, scissoring them gently to coax him to </span>
  <span>open up</span>
  <span> more.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So good, love,” he breathed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When I could feel he was ready, I removed my fingers from him. I prepared myself and pushed into him slowly, sighing with pleasure as he engulfed me. When I was fully inside him, I paused. He wrapped his legs around my </span>
  <span>hips</span>
  <span> and I </span>
  <span>leant</span>
  <span> down to kiss him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I adore you,” I murmured.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And I you,” he whispered back.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>We kissed again, then I began to move. Both of us moaned as I rocked my hips gently, knowing I was hitting his sweet spot. I reached down and frigged his now fully erect cock in time with the thrusts of my hips.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“John,” he sighed. “Oh John.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled me down to kiss him again as I rocked us both into ecstasy. He met my thrusts with bucks of his hips and I gradually increased my pace. His head fell back, his eyes closed in bliss, and I pressed feather-light kisses to his neck. With a gasp of my name, he spilled over my stomach, his arse clenching around me as he climaxed. This sent me over the edge, moaning into his neck as pleasure surged through me. When we had worked through our aftershocks, I pulled out and lay beside him. We held each other, whispering words of love onto skin between kisses.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, and reluctantly, I pulled away to clean us, then settled down again. My darling was a perfect picture of sated happiness.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tracing patterns on my arms with his soft fingertips, he asked, “Would you marry me, John, if we could?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” I replied. “In an instant.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling shyly, he took my left hand in his. “Do you, John Watson, take me to be your wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in brilliance and idiocy, as long as we both shall live?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed joyfully. “I do. And do you, Sherlock Holmes, take me to be your wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in ability and ineptitude, as long as we both shall live?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” he murmured.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I caressed his cheek, wiping away a tear, before sealing our vows with a soft kiss. As we gazed at each other, we both seemed to realise the absurdity of the situation and collapsed into giggles.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After a bath and supper, we cuddled on the settee. I realised that he hadn’t </span>
  <span>actually seen</span>
  <span> the drawing I had done.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to see my drawing of you?” I asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I would,” he replied.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I took up my sketchbook from where I had left it earlier and handed it to him. He studied it in silence for a moment, then he turned to me.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this truly how you see me?” he asked, wonder evident in his voice.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Truly,” I affirmed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s beautiful,” he said.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> beautiful, Sherlock,” I murmured, tightening my arm around him. “I love you so much.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He snuggled up to me with a happy sigh and I brushed a kiss to his temple. This was the feeling I would save up for the hard days when we returned to London.</span>
  
</p>
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